


A Wandering Eye

by azureheavens



Series: Being my friend is very sexy of you [8]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Drunken Kissing, F/M, Fade to Black, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hilclaude Week (Fire Emblem), Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Making Out, Morning After, Pillow Talk, Romance, Slow Burn, if Claude asks you to make out with him in the library you know he likes you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24663967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azureheavens/pseuds/azureheavens
Summary: It doesn’t have to follow us if we don’t want it to,Claude had said back then, moments before kissing her. Hilda knew what they were. Shelikedwhat they were.But who said they had to be anything more than that?
Relationships: Hilda Valentine Goneril/Claude von Riegan
Series: Being my friend is very sexy of you [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1509341
Comments: 28
Kudos: 80
Collections: Hilclaude Week 2020





	1. What We Are

**Author's Note:**

> Part 8 of 10! It references earlier entries in this series, namely Don't Expect Much More Than That, The Fall, and Toeing The Line. 
> 
> Wheeling this baby out for Hilclaude Week!!! You may have noticed this entry has three parts. And maybe you noticed the tags 🤫 Let’s have some fun

It wasn’t the first time they pretended nothing happened between them. 

The next morning, Hilda swept into line for her morning meal and sat down by the time Claude had finished. He glanced her way as he passed, greeting her the same way he always did, and she him. A light smile, a friendly nod, then off to their separate duties. 

Guess it didn’t matter much she pinched her cheeks to calm her nerves at facing him again. He wasn’t going to acknowledge they (almost) kissed. And honestly? They were better for it. 

Since they met, Claude always had been a mystery to her. Nonchalant but in control, seeing past her every move, so close yet so distant. Infectiously confident, a realistic optimist, Claude was reliable in all the best ways. Not even five years, a title, and a war stopped them staying as close as they were in the academy.

But they came all too close when their lips brushed. Then she panicked. And ran. 

Ran from what? Him? He was nothing to be scared of. Either way, she readied her excuses just in case he brought it up. _It was late,_ she would say, _I was tired. You gave me your coat and we watched the stars together and you looked so gorgeous in the moonlight-_

Hilda stabbed her fork into her fruit bowl with a clatter. Keeping her face still, mentally daring anyone who stared to mind their own business, she blithely popped a strawberry into her mouth. She glanced up. Claude walked out of the dining hall, advisors in tow, ready to weed through whatever challenges the war would bring him. He would be leaving today to try and convince the Alliance lords to give more troops and support. 

But Hilda decided she’d take the day off. From worrying about this war, and from worrying about _him_. 

* * *

It wasn’t the first time Claude was able to see right through her. 

Two weeks had passed since they returned from scouting Fort Merceus. Delighted that Claude thought her disguise plan was a stroke of brilliance, Hilda felt happier than usual. If things worked out, their army would be marching on Enbarr soon after and they could finally end the bloodshed. Tensions already ran high. They were more pinched for supplies and soldiers than ever, and Hilda ran herself ragged trying to make it all work. She just wanted a moment to relax! But it never came, so she bothered Claude for another of his weird stories to pass the time. 

She didn’t ask for him to make her _cry_. Or to accuse her of faking her tears! Or to suggest she meet his family after the war... Seemed a lot for a simple conversation. But she knew almost nothing was simple about Claude. “Don’t get the wrong idea,” he said. Still, the thought made her smile. 

But if she did go to meet his family, and things continued down this _completely_ wrong idea, what would happen after that? 

Would she become... _Mrs._ Leader Man? 

Why would her mind jump straight to that?! Sure, Hilda dreamed of a future where her devoted spouse would let her laze beautifully around their resplendent home. And it’s not that the war was more important (which it definitely was). While Claude could laze about with the best of them, he was never the type to sit still. Once they won the war, he would end up the sovereign duke of not only the Leicester Alliance, but all of Fodlan! Whoever was sorry enough to marry him would find a life of work, responsibility, the off chance that everything would go so terribly wrong that their names could go down in history as the ones who ruined everything. 

Claude was good for those things. Hilda wasn’t.

She huffed a sigh as she roamed the monastery on her free day. Aimless clouds drifted alongside her as everyone finished up their last errands. Wondering about the far future gave her a headache, yet there was no one around to distract her. Until she wandered past the stables and saw Marianne tending to Dorte, massaging his handsome muzzle. She always looked the most at peace with the animals, but it didn't look like Dorte had her attention. Heavy thoughts weighed in her gaze, staring as blankly as Byleth. 

“Good afternoon, Marianne!” Hilda called out, still a good distance away. 

No response, not even a glance. “Marianne?” She moved closer. 

Her friend said nothing, absentmindedly petting the horse. Then, like a passing thought, a warm smile ghosted her lips. 

Hilda smirked, poking her head into her line of sight. “Someone looks _very_ happy.” 

Marianne jumped and looked up. “O-oh, Hilda! Good afternoon.” 

“I see you’re helping out with the horses! Excellent work as always.” Hilda gave her warmest smile, readying her investigation. “Now, pardon my asking, but I never see you smile that much, even with Dorte.” 

Surprised, Marianne pressed her fingers to her lips. “Was I...? Well, nothing was wrong. I was just with someone, that’s all.” 

_This ought to be good,_ Hilda thought. “Someone?” she asked, then she gasped dramatically. “Oh, _someone_ , huh?” 

“Um, yes?” 

Hilda chuckled wisely. “My sweet Marianne, it obviously wasn’t just _someone_. Your smile just now was that of a smitten maiden, and whoever came left quite the impression! Who was it? Did Lorenz come by to pepper you with compliments again?” 

Marianne frowned. “It wasn’t Lorenz...” 

“What about Leonie! She’s here often enough for you two to make a connection for sure.” 

“Hilda, please...” 

“No? Then what about...” Tapping her chin with a finger, Hilda smiled. “Ferdinand…?” 

Marianne blushed furiously before turning back to Dorte, running the brush through his mane. “No! It wasn’t him either…” 

_My, I wonder why she’d react like that?_ Hilda giggled. If her own love life was too much to think about, she could at least get some gossip on someone else’s. “Alright, I’ll stop teasing. But you must realize I won’t leave until you tell me! Who is it that has you all twitterpated?” 

“T-twitterpated? No.” Marianne glanced carefully at Hilda before hiding her face again. She held the brush in the air for a moment, hesitating. “I was speaking with Claude, actually.” 

Hilda blinked. A firm knot worked itself in her stomach. “O-oh? I didn’t see him walk past.” 

“It was a little while ago.” Marianne set the brush down, facing Hilda at last. “I didn’t ask him to come, but he said he wanted to share a story with me.” 

“A story? Oh, that guy has plenty of those!” Semi-relieved, Hilda looked around the stables, searching for clues to which it might be. She locked eyes with the soulful Dorte. “Ooh! Was it the one where he was tied to a horse as a child and dragged around?” 

Marianne’s eyes went wide. “What...!?” 

“Oh, his dad apparently did it to him. He told me he was fine with it! ...But I can guess from your expression, that wasn’t it.” Marianne shook her head, properly horrified. Maybe Hilda should have led with a different one. “Wait a second, was it the white camel story? Ugh, I bawled my eyes out with that one!” 

“I think Claude told us very different stories,” Marianne mumbled. 

Hilda shrugged. “Maybe... but in any case, that solves the mystery of who you were with. I wonder which one he told you.” 

Marianne nibbled her lip. She let out a small breath, looking away. “I’m not sure if it’s my place to share it... It seemed very personal to him.” 

Hilda tilted her head. A story too personal to share? But why with Marianne? Something cold sat in the pit of her stomach, but it wasn’t as vapid as jealousy. Maybe she was good enough to share cute little tales with, but when things _really_ mattered... 

“Anyway,” Marianne said, watching her with concern. “After speaking to me, nothing else happened before he left. I know you two are close, so I don’t want you to think-” 

“Wait? Close? Me and him?” Hilda laughed and waved her hand. “No, nothing like that! You’re sweet to be concerned, but why would that bother me? Don’t even worry about it.” 

_I’m not trying not to_ _,_ Hilda thought. 

Eventually, Hilda managed to turn the conversation to lighter things, even taking tea with Marianne to finish the day on a high note: A clear blue sky and Albinean Berry tea made for a great pick-me-up. But when Hilda got back to her room that night, with the moon shining through the window and the world so quiet, she promptly dressed for bed and threw herself into the pillow, clutching it around her face. How long was she going to let this bother her? This “thing” with Claude? She was obviously the smitten one, and she hated every second of it! 

Although, she couldn’t say Claude _didn’t_ hate it too. 

She saw how... stiff and casual things had become between them, like even their easy banter was hard to manage. She saw him flinch in surprise when she blurted out how her eyes wandered to his. He played it off as a joke before easily admitted the same about her. 

Hilda hugged the pillow over her chest, heartbeat drumming in her ears. Just why did he stare...? 

She couldn’t count the number of times that he looked at her then immediately away. During war councils, down the hall, in the thick of battle. Could that also mean he did it when she wasn’t paying attention? And all that was long before the night after Gronder. 

When they both stared so openly, so closely, there was nowhere to hide. 

Hilda replayed the moment in her mind, eyes closed. They stood outside her bedroom, her hand holding his cheek, his hand slipping lower and lower to her waist. Green eyes cool but searching, puzzling out how their lips fit together, when he leaned in- 

This time she didn’t pull away. She let him kiss her and, as much as a daydream could allow, she melted into it. It would have continued. Right through her bedroom door. Arms tight around his broad shoulders, heat flooding her senses, his warm mouth full and heavy against hers. Like she wanted when he was wrapped in bandages after that terrible fall, and when she held his face to innocently fix his hair. Like they _did_ that day five years ago, tangled up in secret behind the stables. 

_It doesn’t have to follow us if we don’t want it to_ _,_ Claude had said back then, moments before kissing her. Hilda knew what they were. She _liked_ what they were. 

But who said they had to be anything more than that? 

* * *

It wasn’t the first time Hilda tried to find Claude. 

This was, however, the first time she managed it right away. The cardinals room would host its weekly status meeting, and she hoped Claude would be close. He had to be alone, or else she’d have to wait even _longer_ to speak her mind. The usual cascade of his gold cloak brought her inside, and he stood in an empty room. He leafed through and organized stacks of reports on the table: rosters, inventory, letters to the retainer he left to manage Riegan lands. He looked up and smiled when she came in but turned right back to his work. 

“There you are!” Hilda chirped, smiling as syrupy as possible. “You’re a hard man to pin down, Claude von Riegan.” 

He raised a brow without looking up. “Careful how you say that, Hilda. Someone might overhear and take it the wrong way.” 

“Good thing no one else is around then, isn’t it?” She crossed the room to the table and pulled out a chair. Claude’s eyes darted to her than back to the paper before she could sit and smooth out her skirt. Otherwise, he was unreadable. 

“Another free day?” He asked. 

“Nope! Busy as always.” Hilda pouted, leaning forward, arms crossed under her chest. 

“So then it’s a _very_ free day?” Claude shot her a grin. 

_Listen, buddy,_ Hilda thought, eyes narrowing. _I’m trying to be flirty, so the very least you can do is flirt back._

Claude's demeanor fell slightly. He set down his notes. “Sorry if I overstepped that time. I do appreciate all your help these past few months. I know it hasn’t been easy.” 

“Oh? I wasn’t bothered.” And it was true. “I was just thinking about how I could easily tease _you_ about working too hard, you know?” 

“Well,” he grumbled, “if you’ve come to whisk me away to a place where war isn’t threatening everything hold dear, I’d be happy to hear it.” The bite in his voice seemed to surprise even him. He cleared his throat. “Sorry again. This next scheme is trickier than my usual ones. Tailors are having trouble replicating what imperial uniforms we could get a hold of, and that’s just the least of what we need to finish.” 

Hilda frowned and stood, sympathy winning her over. “I'm sorry, Claude... Wish there was more I could help, but I’m not that good of a seamstress.” 

“It’s no one’s fault. Complaining won’t solve our problems faster anyway. Your plan is still the best we have.” Claude forced a smile. “It’s just good to get it off my chest, I suppose.” 

“You know what, I’ve thought the exact same thing,” Hilda cooed. “We shouldn’t get hung up on all this. Besides the uniforms, you’ve got this whole ‘sneak into Fort Merceus’ plan ready to go, right?” 

Claude pursed his lips, nodding. “Give or take a contingency or two, yeah, I suppose so.” 

“Great! I’d say that’s cause to celebrate.” Hilda walked over to Claude, dusting nothing off his poofy coat sleeves. She felt hard muscle underneath and wondered what else he was hiding under there. “Why don’t we take some time to blow off steam together? Just the two of us?” 

“Just us? What would _that_ mean?” 

Finished with his sleeve, she moved on to adjust his collar, She smoothed down the creases with a light touch. “Not sure, but...” Fingers twisted around the tail of his cravat. “I bet you’ll think of something,” she said, tightening it. 

Claude’s brows flew up with her hands close to his neck, but his poker face did not break. “...Sounds like you have something in mind.” 

Hilda shrugged and stepped back, watching for his _real_ reaction. Enough dancing around what was obviously there. If he really could see through her, then he’d know she wasn’t joking. “You know, Claude? I’ve been thinking about you. _A lot._ More than I want, to be honest.” She sighed, shaking her head ruefully. Her gaze flicked back to his. “I think we’ve stumbled into a fine mess, but we don’t have to let it stay messy. You understand what I mean, right?” 

Claude’s eyes flashed with interest as well as caution. Just what she expected, and exactly what she was looking for. “We’ve been friends for so long,” she continued, thoughtfully tugging at her hair, “and I don’t want that to change. It doesn’t make sense to go _that_ way with all we have to deal with, but we don’t need to manage this stress alone. So we can either keep pretending nothing’s happening, or forget all those little details and just...” She bit her lip, looking him over. “Go with it for a bit. Enjoy each other’s company.” 

He watched her quietly for a long moment. Speechless, compared to his usual glib. Then, just as he opened his mouth, Hilda put up a finger. “Before you ask: No, this does _not_ count as the favor. This ‘scheme’ would benefit both of us, don’t you think?” 

Claude waited longer in case Hilda interrupted again, watching under raised brows. “You make an interesting point,” he said. His voice rumbled deliciously. “This isn’t the time to make promises that would be hard to keep. So why not promise to… not promise anything?” 

“Exactly! You get it! Nothing complicated at all.” Hilda flashed a sweet smile. “And the decision is entirely up to you, Claude. Besides, this doesn’t have to follow us if we don’t want it to... Right?” 

At that, Claude’s lips curved into a smile. He broke eye contact for a second, chuckling and shaking his head. “Using my own words against me, huh? You’re devious, Hilda.” 

“Oh, did you say something like that before? Here I thought I was being smooth.” 

“Hey, no complaints here, and it sounds like you know what you’re looking for. I respect that.” Claude smiled carefully. “But before things go too far, I suggest we try something out first.” 

“Oh?” Hilda frowned. _Is he trying to back out?_

“No frowns. Just hear me out. I’m assuming this little proposal has been on your mind ever since... that other night. It’s a good idea to check if something like that was a fluke or not. So...” 

He took a step closer, startling her. Now they stood just as close as before, but this felt more... immediate. Green eyes gleamed, locking onto hers, their color warm from the window’s light. He brushed his knuckles against her cheek, tilting her face upwards. “May I?” he asked softly. 

The rasp and deep timbre of his voice made Hilda’s heartbeat rush in her ears, but she managed a nod. From this close, she found she could pick apart the scent of his cologne. Clean and earthy, freshly washed sandalwood with a kick of ginger. Underneath that was his natural smell that spelled her into a stupor. Nothing that came in a bottle could ever surpass it. 

Claude stopped and glanced to the door, watching in case someone interrupted. Feeling more than impatient, she tugged his shoulder to pull him back. He turned and their faces stopped a breath apart. No turning back.

She closed her eyes, waiting until at last, he took her lips in his. 

Hilda’s stomach flipped in all the right ways. His kiss was gentle, just enough pressure, but it smoldered on her lips and flared sparks to her fingertips. She kissed him back and he slid his hand behind her neck, keeping her close. She fought the urge to thread her fingers through his hair by tightening her grip on his shoulder, but it wasn’t the same. Warm mouth, warm hands. She ached for more. If this was just one kiss, one that she wondered about for the past two weeks, imagine what else could spark between them... 

Claude pulled away, and she followed him for a second before stopping. Eyes still shut, knowing what she’d find on the other side, she wanted to be as composed as Claude probably was. She let out a steady, metered breath, trying not to sound too pleased with herself. 

“Well,” he said, warm breath meeting her own. His voice trembled slightly. “That tells me all I need to know." 

Hilda’s eyes fluttered opened. Green eyes stared back into hers, sparkling with a smile that wasn’t there before. Claude cleared his throat as he stepped back, placing his hand back on his hip. 

Hilda tilted her head.. “And...?” 

“And...” He gave her a once over, running his tongue over the edge of his teeth. “I think this could work.” 

Fighting a smile, Hilda wiggled her shoulders at him, earning her a low, husky laugh. He gave her a wry look as he walked back to his things on the table. Surely he wasn’t going to hop right back to work after a kiss like that. “So,” she asked, a little breathless, “what now?”

He thoughtfully clicked his tongue. “What indeed? You and I will have to decide on something together.” 

Of course, not a moment later, the professor wandered in the room, Mercedes by her side. Claude and Byleth immediately broke into discussion about reinforcements and supplies while the rest of the council trickled in one by one. Naturally, the two ignored each other, but Hilda's lips still tingled, and the back of her neck buzzed where he held her. 

She kept her glances at him to a minimum, waiting for him to send her a sign or give more information. Claude’s love of secrecy would appreciate not making things too obvious, considering how often everyone crossed paths. But if people would talk, let them talk. The idea of swirling rumors made the whole agreement even more exciting.

“Say, Hilda,” Claude called from across the room as everyone sat. “Could you help me double-check these numbers?” 

“Me? I mean, I guess so.” She joined him, mindful of not standing too close. Turns out he actually did want to talk about numbers, like how many vulneraries they went through last month and how many they could spare for the next. His sandalwood and ginger cologne was just as potent from here. Sparks lit in her stomach as she stepped a little closer. 

“Well, that just about settles it. I knew you’d be the one to ask, Hilda.” He shot her a meaningless smile. “Come find me after if you have any more insights. You know, on Tuesday nights, you can usually find me in the library pretty late.” 

“Makes sense! Although...” She counted off the days on an invisible calendar. “Today isn’t Tuesday.” 

“...It’s not? Huh.” Claude looked up thoughtfully. “Then that would mean you _shouldn’t_ try to find me there later tonight.” His gaze fell to hers, heavy with ideas, and he winked. The last thing on his mind was numbers. 

Hilda stared for a moment before he left and sat at the head of the council. She wanted to laugh or shake her head, but she kept her expression even and casual. _I can’t believe it,_ she thought, anticipation bubbling inside of her. _I’m actually excited to visit the library._


	2. Taste Test

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a been a few whirlwind months before I could update but I’m here!! I’ve even added a few references to Don’t Expect Much More Than That, so see if you can pick them out. And shoutout to AJ for beta reading!
> 
> Finally... We get to the sexy part of “Being my friend is very sexy of you.” 

The cork popped out of the wine bottle with minimal effort, but Claude quickly realized it was a dumb decision to bring one at all. 

He had snuck into the kitchen earlier to grab it before heading up to the library. At first it seemed natural: His and Hilda’s plan to meet up and let loose was sealed with a kiss, after all. Now it seemed presumptive they would need it. Sighing and shaking his head, he set the bottle next to the singular wine glass and stepped away to pace. 

He was sure he didn’t misunderstand. Probably. 

When the council adjourned earlier in the afternoon, Claude had found his way to Hilda and managed to decide on a meeting time through benign, nonsensical small talk. Others may have thought they’d gone mad, but the time had been set. They would meet a hair’s breadth before the stroke of midnight, when the whole monastery would be too busy dreaming to interrupt. While others dressed for bed, Claude changed into simple pants and a pale yellow, cotton shirt and went to the library to wait. 

Naturally, Hilda was late. A clock on the far wall confirmed it: twelve minutes past. No way to tell how much longer she’d be, so it was better to keep busy in this case. 

Claude had set up a “workstation” of books to pretend he was there for study, with only a wine glass for company. He snatched up a tome from the top of a stack and sat on a chair. Propping his feet on the neighboring table, he opened the book in the middle and began to read. 

This book was a favorite of his when he first came to the monastery. It chronicled firsthand accounts of Garreg Mach’s construction with aggrandizing abridgment. This part of the book covered the founding of the Officer’s Academy, including the journal entries of generals who fought against the Almyran invasion over two hundred years ago. War was no stranger to the land, but only then did Fodlan realize they didn’t have to war against each other. The archbishop of the time convinced the three nations to cooperate, and so the Officer’s Academy was born. 

_The irony of it all,_ Claude thought, amused. _Built to enforce the walls around_ _Fodlan_ _, yet this will be the very place where those walls come crashing down..._

“...Should I leave you two alone, then?” 

With that sweet voice flittering over his head, Claude grinned. He rolled his head back to find Hilda hovering over his shoulder, long pink hair pulled back in her usual style. She had changed her earrings to clusters of pearls suspended from gold chains, and her perfume smelled of vanilla and rose petals, simple but intoxicating. 

Holding her gaze, he snapped the book shut in one hand. “Just biding my time until you finally arrived. I was a little bored without you around.” 

“Are you sure?” Hilda teased. “You were so focused that you didn’t hear me come in! I sighed and huffed and everything.” 

Claude laughed and stood. “Okay, you got me there.” Looking at her clothes, it seemed she decided to change too. She wore a sleeveless black dress that was not unlike her usual outfit, with a short hem and low neckline. She went without the bell sleeves and gloves for once, her arms fit and muscular. To say she was a “sight to behold” did little justice. “But really, it’s good to see you at last.” 

She smiled and hummed in agreement. She made no effort to hide that she was checking him out, too. “I promised, didn’t I? I have _plenty_ of steam to blow off, and I can’t think of any place I’d rather be.” 

He raised a brow. “Plenty, huh?” 

“Yes, plenty!” Hilda collapsed dramatically onto his chest, practically wilting from exhaustion. She wrapped her arms around him in a little hug. “Despite what everyone thinks, I have an incredibly stressful life. Well, maybe not compared to yours…” 

Seeing his cue, Claude started to put his hands on her waist, but suddenly changed his mind. Then he placed them on her shoulders, but that was too casual. Eventually he slid his palms down the back of her arms and held her there, encouraging the hug. He’d have to keep watching to see what she did next. “You know, I can’t tell if you admire me or if you feel sorry for me,” he said. 

“Maybe a little of both...?” Hilda looked up at him, not bothering to hide her stare. The promise of what was to come hung heavy in the air, but neither of them seemed ready to name it. “So, um... Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” 

“I think so. But first...” He leaned in conspiratorially, hand brushing against her bare shoulder. He felt Hilda tense up the slightest bit, which honestly made the whole thing better. “...Shouldn’t we discuss the terms of this agreement more?” 

Hilda pulled back and frowned. “Excuse me? ‘Terms?’ What are you going on about?” 

Claude shrugged good naturedly. “I’m not trying to put a damper on the evening, but we should at least talk about the sort of… expectations we have. Can’t let some misstep make things difficult between us.” 

“...Claude, I don’t think any of _this,_ ” she gestured her hands at them both, “needs to be pinned down with rules. The point of tonight is simple: just have _fun_ for once.” 

“Sure, it starts out as simple fun, but even that can get out of hand once you cross a line.” 

She raised a brow. “Does that mean you have lines you won’t cross?” 

He raised one back. “Don’t you?” 

“Hmm, I guess so.” She sighed. “Then if this stops being fun, we stop. Though to be honest, I thought you’d have an open mind...” 

Claude laughed and took hold of her hand, pressing a kiss onto her knuckles. “My mind and heart are wide open, Hilda.” 

Hilda pursed her lips, unconvinced. Then she glanced behind Claude and at once perked up. “Oh my,” she said, “did you bring us wine?” She slipped out of his arms and walked to his workstation. She picked up the bottle, admiring it, before looking down at his set up. “And let me guess: you brought only one glass, so it didn’t look like you planned for company?” 

Claude shot her a wink. “I think you know me too well by now.” 

“More like you just think too much,” she said plainly. She began to fill the glass, pale red liquid swirling and bubbling inside of it. She held it up at eye level once it was nearly full. “Have you tried some yet?” 

“No, not yet. I figured I’d wait for you.” 

Hilda smiled sweetly. “Good.” She tilted the glass to her lips and drank the whole thing. Claude’s eyes went wide as he watched. Gulp after gulp, she didn’t stop until it emptied just as quickly as she filled it. Her nose crinkled the tiniest bit when she finished, but she sighed happily, her whole body relaxing. 

Shaking his head, Claude laughed again. “You don’t waste time, Hilda! Tell me, does it at least taste good?” 

Hilda paused to put a finger to her lips and licked it. She watched him with cheeks as pink as the wine. “Why don’t you come over and find out?” 

Claude froze. A pleasurable chill ran down his spine. “Well,” he breathed, walking to her, “since you asked nicely...” 

She bit her lip as he closed the distance, her eyes darting up and down before settling on his face. Vanilla and rose filled his mind again. Her beautiful pink eyes, her soft, blush-colored lips. Frankly, she was _stunning_. He dipped his head and kissed her. Slowly. A hand at her back. His thumb brushing her chin. All of it a test to see what she was looking for, what she wanted to do… 

Hilda perched her hands on his chest and let him lead, savoring the kiss. His face grew hot next to hers, contrasting the coolness trickling down his spine. But there had to be more. The hint of wine lingered there, but he needed to find that taste. He paused, then drew his tongue past her lips, teasing out what flavor he could. 

Tangy. Sweet. All the wine talk he knew flew out of his head as he decided that was just how Hilda tasted. 

Hilda’s hands tightened on his chest, but she did not stop him. Her tongue even brushed his before darting away, a new but fun sensation. Claude returned to a regular kiss before he was back again, marveling at the ease and eagerness she reciprocated with a playful tongue. He cupped his hand to her cheek, and she sighed into him, her fingers light against his neck. Then she sighed again, a request to get closer. 

Instead, Claude pulled back. To take stock, to flush out his mind, whatever. Hilda looked at him with heavy, curious eyes. “So,” she said breathlessly, “did you like it?” 

“It was good,” he muttered, either the kiss or the wine making him lightheaded. “In fact, I think I’d like to try a little more...” He leaned back in. Hilda closed her eyes, lips parting for him, but instead he reached behind her and grabbed the entire wine bottle from the table. “Pardon me.” 

“Wh- Hey!” Hilda gasped when he stepped back and fit the bottle to his lips. He winced as fruity tang singed his mouth, almost too fast to swallow. She tried to snatch it from him, but he put up a finger to wait. 

After a few more gulps, he _thunked_ the bottle on a table and vigorously shook his head clear. Claude turned and scooped Hilda into his arms, the tips of her toes barely scraping the wooden floor. “Okay,” he said, and dove in for a kiss. His tongue met hers and a whole new wave of warmth flooded his veins. A spark on a trail of oil, setting a dried-out field ablaze. 

Giggling, Hilda flung her arms around his neck and kicked her feet up behind her, suspended in his arms. Claude promptly lost his mind, tightened his grip at her waist, pulled her against him. He set her down and they stumbled to brace themselves against the closest table. Their kiss didn’t break. Full flavor bloomed in his mouth, along with her tongue and sighs. Hunger thundered in his chest. He wanted to catch his breath but couldn't. Her lips were too sweet and persistent. 

Overwhelmed, Claude braced a free hand on the tabletop, knocking something over. He peeked. The empty wine glass had rolled on its side as several books clattered to the ground. Without thinking, he drew away to fix it. 

Hilda pulled his face back to hers and kissed him more. “Leave it,” she mumbled. 

Claude chuckled, impressed she wasn’t tired yet. “Just one second. I promise.” 

With an exasperated sigh, she let him go. He quickly scooped up the books and walked them to a shelf. In truth he was glad for a break, if only to gather his thoughts. His cautious self scolded him for being vulnerable, as if the kiss triggered a fight or flight response. 

_If you show your hand too soon,_ _you’ll_ _be defenseless,_ it warned. _Drink too much,_ _you’ll_ _say too much._

But his sensible, more hopeful side calmed those warnings: 

_You’re_ _not fighting an enemy here._ _You’re_ _in the company of a beautiful woman who happens to be a good friend. If_ _she_ ** _did_** _want_ _to kill you, she could have easily done it months ago._

Well... Slightly more hopeful. 

“...Why are you all the way over there?” Hilda asked, pouting. 

Claude fit the last book into its place. “Wouldn’t want to incriminate ourselves by spilling wine on anything, would we?” 

"That’s your fault for bringing a whole bottle into the library,” she said. “If this is your way of saying you're getting cold feet-” 

“No, no,” Claude chided, though he supposed she was correct. “Just trying to give this place the respect it deserves.” He stopped by the chair he sat in earlier, holding out his hands in honor of every book that had ever kept him company. “Especially if we want to host another rendezvous here in the future.” 

Sighing dramatically, Hilda bit her lip. “You know, Claude?” she asked, closing the distance. She put her hands on his shoulders, rubbing his tender muscles. “...You’re kind of a nerd.” 

With that, she shoved him into the chair. He fell with a loud “Oof!” and the elegance of a flour sack. Hilda perched herself on his lap, delicately swinging both legs to one side as she settled in. “Only you,” she said, tapping his nose, “would think the library is the best place to make out.” 

Claude fought a smile, sliding one hand around her waist, placing the other on her legs. “Isn’t it, though?” 

Hilda scrunched her nose at him. He kissed her anyway, and in no time she had her arms back around his neck, pressing her chest tight against his. They started out slow before shifting into an easy, luxurious pace. Still a bit of tongue, but deliberate, giving Claude more time to just enjoy the feel of her. Carefully, he inched his hand up her thigh, his bare palm roving over her toned, smooth legs. His kiss moved from her mouth to her cheek, then to her jaw and neck. From here he could taste her perfume, mixing in with the wine and the salt of her skin. 

“Oh, Claude...” Hilda’s sigh was heaven, perfectly enraptured. She rooted her fingers in his hair, tugging. His breath hitched when she did, leaving no choice but to tease more of those little moans from her. With one arm he pulled her higher on his lap and pressed his face into her amazing chest, trailing kisses over every inch of skin. 

His name dripped from her lips like honey. She started to rock her hips against his lap, rocketing shockwaves up his body. Her heart raced under his lips, matching the beat pounding in his ears. At last Hilda pulled Claude’s face back to hers and their lips crashed together again, breath hot and rushed. There was only fire left. So forgive him for wanting to stoke the flame. Without another thought, he slid her hand up her skirt and- 

Suddenly. Books and paper clattered against the floor. 

From outside. 

In the hall. 

“Whoa, are you alright? Told ya I could carry all that,” A voice said. 

“I’m f-fine!” Said another. “I had it perfectly under control! Until the very end, I suppose.” 

Silent, Claude and Hilda stopped, looked at each other, then scrambled to their feet. He put back the chair, she smoothed down her skirt, and they both rushed to the nearest bookshelf. They had no plan, but that didn’t matter. Hilda fixed up her hair as Claude straightened his collar and reached for the highest book he could touch. “Is this the one you needed?” He asked loudly. 

“Oh, yes!” Hilda exclaimed. “Of course it’s on some out of the way shelf! So glad you were here to help.” 

“Glad I was here, too.” Claude handed her a random book, then turned to face the door. And squinted. 

Two surprised but familiar faces squinted back from the doorway. Lysithea’s pale pink eyes stared at them with suspicion, arms full of loose papers and ink. Behind her armed with books was Cyril, amber eyes watching quizzically. 

“Oh, you two,” Claude said as if it was obvious, but they were the last people he expected. “I’m surprised to see you here at this hour.” 

Carefully, Lysithea entered the library. “You certainly look surprised. In fact, we could say the same thing.” 

“Especially you, Hilda,” Cyril said. 

Hilda scoffed with good humor. “Very funny! Yes, it’s true I’m not in here often. Some time ago Seteth asked me to find a specific book for him, and I only just remembered! Luckily, Claude basically lives at the library, so he helped me pick it out.” She held it out for Cyril to see. 

Stepping closer, Cyril squinted at the book’s cover, mouthing out the words, but Lysithea beat him to it. “ _Techniques for Irrigation in Landlocked Nations_?” 

Claude nearly burst out laughing. Hilda balked, looking at the cover. “...Oh, you know! That Seteth! Always looking for new ideas for a fable.” 

“Not sure what sort of fable he’s trying to write on that topic,” Lysithea remarked with a shrug. “But I suppose you would know more about his writing process than I do. Good luck, then.” 

“Yes, good luck, Hilda,” Claude said to her, his heart and mind still warm from her touch. “You know where to find me if you ever need anything else from the library.” 

Hilda smiled, eyes taking him in one last time. “I suppose I do... Goodnight.” Then she casually made her way out the door. 

Claude smiled as she left. Then his eyes fell on a frowning Cyril, amber eyes squinting and scrutinizing. 

“What’s wrong?” Claude asked. 

Cyril’s frown deepened. “Nothing. It just doesn’t sound like Hilda to actually do something after she already forgot. None of it sounds believable.” 

“If you believe her or not, that’s up to you. But come to think of it, you’ve got me curious about what you two have planned here. Care to share?” 

“Oh, this is for...” Cyril glanced to Lysithea, then to the books in his arms. “We, um...” 

“We are... s-studying!” Lysithea stuck out her chin as if it explained everything. “Cyril is helping me with an... _especially_ important bit of research. Normally I’d do it on my own, but....” 

“Y-yeah! She helped me out a while ago, and I’ve had to clean the library a few times, so I know where everything goes. I'm just returning a favor she did for me,” Cyril said firmly. 

_Well, doesn’t that sound familiar?_ Claude thought. It didn’t seem like a lie, and it didn’t feel like the whole truth. But looking at the number of books and papers on hand, they did intend to study here. “Checks out to me. Don’t let me get in your way.” He walked back to his forgotten workstation, secretly grabbing the wine bottle and empty glass on his way over. “Actually, I was just heading to bed when Hilda arrived. I was looking into the details of my own research.” 

Lysithea raised a brow. She nodded to behind his back. “With wine?” 

“...Yes. With wine. You’ll understand when you’re older.” He tipped the bottle in salute to the younger study buddies and walked out with his bottle and glass. Once in the hall, he stopped, ears craning to hear behind him. 

“Say, Cyril…” Lysithea began. “You don’t think those two were…?” 

“Whatever they were up to, it’s ain’t any of my business,” he replied. “Let’s just get started.” 

Claude bit back a snicker, shaking his head. He started down the hall, memories of vanilla and rose swimming in his mind. 

* * *

By the time Claude made it back to his room, he felt more than a little rosy from the wine. He set the bottle and glass on his desk and stretched. _Not bad at all,_ he thought. He might actually sleep soundly through the night, but he wasn’t ready to collapse just yet. 

Especially with all the damn books still on his bed. More popped up every time he tried to clean, and before long he had given up trying and just curled up between them to doze. This time there was no space for even _that_ _._ His first move was to drunkenly swipe all the books to the ground. Bad move. Bent pages and ruined spines made these old books look even older. Grumbling softly, he bent down to stack the books properly. 

_Knock_ _knock_ _, knock_ _knock_ _._ “Claaaaude. Are you awake?” 

_...Just keeps coming back, doesn’t she?_ He thought, but he couldn’t help but smile. He righted one last stack of books, pushed back his hair, and opened the door to find Hilda on the other side, smiling up at him under her long lashes. He leaned against the door frame. “Now, how can I help you at this late hour?” 

Hilda daintily poked _Techniques for Irrigation in Landlocked Nations_ into his ribs. “Here’s your book,” she said sweetly. 

Claude accepted it graciously then nodded to her outfit. Inexplicably, she was dressed up in her usual clothes, sleeves and boots and all. “...Are you heading out?” 

“Mmm no, not really. Actually...” she paused to shrug. “I’m planning on staying the night here.” 

“Oh... You-” Claude blinked, the wine slowing the cogs of his mind. “Wait, you’re-” Without a word, Hilda wedged herself through the door, flipping her hair as she entered. Perfume washed over him before he registered that she was in his room with no plans on leaving. “...What?” 

“Tonight was pretty fun,” Hilda said, taking off her earrings and keeping them on his desk. “Definitely helped blow off steam. But honestly, I got a little worked up... Oh, good! You brought the wine back with you.” 

“Uh, yeah.” He couldn’t finish his thought when she slid her gloves and sleeves off to the ground. “Tonight was fun, but-” She undid the belt holding her overskirt and let it fall. “...Hilda, you dropped your clothes.” 

“I know. I’ll just grab them later.” Apparently her outfit came with many different layers, and one by one she took them off, placing them on the desk or just letting it fall to the floor. “To plan ahead, I brought everything I’d need to get dressed for tomorrow. Figured you’d appreciate that kind of forward thinking.” She shot him a wink. 

Claude couldn’t look away. He didn’t want to. He had no objection to Hilda undressing with deliberate care and attention in the middle of his bedroom. He just had no plan. At least he had thought the clear off his bed before- 

Hilda let her dress fall to the floor. Next to nothing was left save for lacy, black undergarments and thigh-high boots commanding his attention. Claude’s eyes carved her every curve into his mind for all eternity. Remembering that he had all that in arms just before was more than he could handle. Her smooth skin, breathtaking abs, and toned legs all conspired to set his mind on fire. 

Maybe there was a Goddess after all. 

Hilda giggled, biting her lip. “I kind of like it when you’re speechless. What, nothing to say?” 

“Well,” Claude began, his throat dry, “it may be the wine slowing me down-” 

“Weird. I thought that would speed things up.” She pulled off her hairband, fanning her long pink locks behind her. When she saw him still gaping from across the room, she hesitated. “Unless... Is this one of those ‘crossing a line’ things you were worried about?” 

Claude finally found control of his body again, and he used it to walk to her. “Not exactly,” he managed to say. His hands found their way to her hips, the fabric and bare skin sparking against his fingertips. “Hilda, I’m not saying no...” He held her gaze for a time, then found himself admiring her from up close. “Gods, I’m not really saying anything.” 

Hilda smiled softly, idly walking her fingers up Claude’s chest, stopping at his exposed collarbone. Her fingers left the barest touch on his neck when she tilted her head. Claude’s lips fell to hers, his hands smoothing over her bare, muscled back. Their breath mingled, warming him through and through. The quiet comfort of his room reminded him that no one else could interrupt them now. And he was exactly where he wanted to be. 

She pulled back a little, face pink and lips full. “You don’t have to say a word,” she whispered. And she meant it, he could see it in her eyes. The same eyes that always drifted in his direction, peering past the walls he placed around himself. 

Then her hands locked onto the front of his shirt. “Besides, I already told you. I’m staying the night.” 

Hilda pushed him back against the door and Claude stumbled gracelessly, arms loose like a ragdoll. She pinned him there and squeezed her lips against his. Warm, intense, passionate. Kissing him like it was the only thing she could do, locking him in place with her soft, delicious mouth. Her tongue found his. Greedy fingers ran up and down his chest, tugging at the shirt she obviously wanted gone. 

Claude couldn’t agree more. He pulled off his shirt and dove back in for the kiss. It wasn’t long before his pants and her bra joined the rest on the floor. When he scooped her into his arms, she jumped to wrap her legs around his hips, lacing fingers through his hair, moaning. Want became need. All Claude could do was wander blindly toward the bed and throw her on it. 

She lay beneath him in all her splendor, hair fanned out around her, bare chest heaving. He wanted to look at her, just for a moment. He traced a hand up her boot to the exposed part of her thigh, pulling it to him. Only a few layers of clothing kept them apart now, and in that moment, he knew the walls around his heart just may crumble. Even if she wanted this to mean nothing, and he agreed, his heart could be stolen away regardless. 

But still, a wolfish grin spread over his lips. He pulled in her hips, pressed her deeper into his bed, leaned in close to whisper the obvious truth: “You’re staying the night.” 


	3. What We Aren't

It was early morning. A film of blue light from the window haloed over everything in the room, barely enough to see. Clothes littered the floor of the room, and the air was quiet. Cold. Harpstring Moon was always chilly in the morning, but having another warm body with her made things bearable...

_Wait a second..._

Hilda raised her head and squinted around her. Once she realized where she was, she collapsed back onto the pillow with a soft groan. “Oops...”

She was supposed to be back in _her room_ right now, not still in Claude’s. She had brought her clothes in case she couldn’t sneak out early enough, if she had to pretend she overslept. Her plan could still work if she wanted, or she could leave right now. Instead, she tucked herself deeper in the blankets. She’d have to fight to stay awake, but she was so warm, and she felt so good.

Claude lay next to her, head turned away, his chest rising and falling. She lay curled on her side by the wall while he was flat on his back, one arm tucked beneath this head, _definitely_ blocking her exit. She watched him for a little bit, not wanting to wake him.

 _Rare to see him truly relaxed,_ she thought.

Even when he smiled and joked, plans and schemes always whirled behind those green eyes. And last night in the library, he was strangely careful where he put his hands, pulling away when it was getting good. Actually, was it strange at all? Hilda always knew he was hyper-vigilant. But now there were no fake smiles or darting eyes. Just comfortable, peaceful sleep.

 _So he’d_ better _be comfy now. We worked hard last night._

Hilda smiled and sighed longingly. No regrets. Between the scrumptious wine, teasing whispers, and fiery kisses, she would give anything to relive that night again. Not knowing what would happen next, embracing the moment while they could. Their delightful little secret… Although nearly being walked in on with Claude’s hand up her skirt was no fun. But everything after? _Amazing._ Claude’s eyes went so wide when she began to strip. So, the Invincible Mr. Leaderman had a weakness after all! He was cautious at first, but he wasn’t shy for long...

Strong arms holding her, calloused hands guiding her. Their bodies moving together by reflex, fueled by the delicious friction of skin on skin. Overwhelming heat, building and building until it was _everywhere._ Never in her life was she be glad to get so sweaty, but it was worth it. Every gasp and wave of pleasure was _worth it._

But now, slowly, the morning light grew brighter. The night was over and done.

Instead of getting up, Hilda found herself more interested in watching Claude.

His hair was completely mussed with thick curls sticking out in every way possible. Her fault, probably. His body seemed to melt in her arms when she played with it, so she got a little carried away. Her gaze traced from his closed eyes to his collarbone, to the muscles on the arm tucked behind his head. Bulging biceps were gross on her, but on Claude? Absolute _perfection._

She reached out and let her fingers hover over his chest, past the dusting of dark hair (just thinking about how it trailed down past his stomach made her weak), to the small, puckering scar close to his heart. Warm, tawny skin marked from a wound that almost killed him. It didn’t, but it could have.

_Commandeering my wyvern and taking out the enemy general before even Teach noticed? I’m sad to have missed it: You must have been quite a sight._

She didn’t care what she had looked like back then. She just remembered watching Claude fall off his wyvern once they landed, panic swallowing the Alliance army. That same panic froze her in place, until the imperial forces rallied, until Ladislava charged…

_But your actions saved all our lives, otherwise the empire would have demolished us. That’s why you surprised me… I never expected it._

She hoped he wouldn’t get his hopes up again. It was a fluke, just a rushed, terrifying moment. It was fine now since everyone could come home in one piece. But his compliments after, subtle as they were, just made her feel _seen_. Much different from last night. Stripping off her clothes was easier than having to face those serious green eyes.

 _If one good thing came of all that..._ Hilda thought, resting her hand on his chest. His skin was warm, his heartbeat thrumming underneath. _It’s that I’m able to see him like this._

Not a moment after, Claude flinched awake. Hilda jerked back her hand and watched as he crinkled his nose, rolled his shoulders, tilted his head to her. Once settled, he took a deep breath and let out a huge, unsexy yawn.

Hilda rolled her eyes and tucked her arm back in beside her. “Good morning to you, too, Claude.”

“Mmm... Hi.” His eyes were fixed shut, his low voice even raspier. Goosebumps betrayed Hilda by prickling her skin. Somehow his voice always sounded good. “I’m surprised you’re still here,” he mumbled. “Thought you’d have gone already.”

“I meant to,” Hilda said, her voice quiet. The pale blue of the morning made her want to whisper. “I just woke up, too. Besides, I’d have to crawl all over you to get out.”

Claude smiled halfheartedly. “Oh, how awful for me... But if you need to go, don’t let me get in your way.”

 _Guess I should get going,_ she thought.

Tired, Hilda pushed herself onto her elbows and rolled the muscles in her neck, toes curling as she stretched like a drowsy cat. She hummed and sighed, squeezing her eyes shut. Then she thought about the cold air, the trek back to her room, the warm blankets she was nestled in...

“No,” she decided. She collapsed onto Claude, curling against him with her head on his shoulder. She wrapped her arm across his stomach and she inhaled deeply through her nose. The cologne had long worn off, but his smell was stronger than ever. She breathed out happily. “Too much effort.”

Claude shook with quiet laughter. “I should have guessed.” He weaved his arm around her shoulders, resting his head against hers. They laid quietly for a while, still fighting against sleep, his thumb brushing against her skin. A small part of her, quiet and content, wished this could last.

No war. No titles. Just Claude and Hilda. Just their breath and the warmth of their skin.

After a long moment, Claude yawned again, quieter this time. “It’s just as well,” he said. “My head feels like mush...”

Hilda giggled. “Oh? Too much wine, Archduke Riegan?”

“That, and I don’t think I got much sleep.” At last he pried open an eye, his smile warm and playful. “Last night was fun.”

“I’m glad,” she cooed. She started tracing nonsense shapes on his chest before running her fingers over the hair. Now that he was awake, she could play with it all she liked. “If it was just me having a good time, I’d feel guilty.”

“Oh, far, _far_ from it.” Claude pressed his forehead to hers, his fingers trailing down her arm to her waist. “Although, I’d have to say this scheme of yours was too successful. I can’t even think about getting up now.”

Hilda fought a smile and gazed up at him. It would have been easy to kiss him now, but she couldn’t keep up the _just friends_ label with all this snuggling. “We both have to get up at some point, you know.”

“I know, but… five more minutes.”

“No way! We’ve got to get you presentable.” Hilda rolled over and propped herself on top of his chest. She trailed her nails through his scalp, tucking away every errant curl. The morning brought scratchy stubble on his face, but there was nothing she could do about that here. “I know looking slightly scruffy is your thing, but we can’t keep meeting like this if we make it obvious.”

Claude closed his eyes and let her work, basking in the attention. “I’ll just say I was up late working,” he added. “Before I knew it, it was dawn, and I didn’t have time to even shave.”

“That could still mean anything if you say it like _that._ Honestly, what to do with you?” Hilda pinched his nose, which made him flinch. She laughed again, then went back to playing with his hair. “Part of me actually likes this unstyled look.”

He touched a lock of her hair and rubbed the strands between his fingers. “How so?”

 _You look more like yourself,_ she wanted to say. Something less practiced, more _real._ But that didn’t sound like much of a compliment. “It reminds me of how you were back the academy. Always the intelligent, charming little mystery. You could make even the most miserable day fun. Although, after last night…” Hilda leaned in closer, tracing her finger down the line of his neck. “I think I found a new way to have fun with you.”

Claude laughed, and a smile crinkled around his eyes as they darted away. “Hilda, Hilda, Hilda…” Finally, he looked back at her with heavy lids. His hands rubbed slow, warm circles on her shoulders. “Is all this flattery necessary? You’re already in bed with me.”

Hilda bit her lip, eyes on the ceiling, not minding when his hands slid down her chest. “If it bothers you that much,” she whispered, “you could compliment me back to make it even...”

Claude raised a brow with a smirk. “Would this count as a compliment?” He pulled her close, drawing her whole body against his. His kiss was light, no more than a whisper. Like she was a secret, and he was eager to keep it. Moaning softly, Hilda threw her head back as he pinched and teased her, slowly, deliberately. His lips found her neck as he amped up the pace, and delicious fire sparked and kindled inside her. But she wasn’t about to let him have his way. Not unless he made a convincing argument-

_Bam bam bam bam bam!_

Claude and Hilda jolted. They both glared at the door.

“Open up, boy!” A voice called through the door. “This isn’t your regular wakeup call! We need to speak.”

Grumbling darkly about interruptions, Claude craned his neck to the door, pretending to have just woken up. “Huh? Judith? What’s wrong…?”

“In a word, everything. Now get up. It’s urgent.”

Claude shook his head, whispering, “Damn…” He looked to Hilda and put a finger over his lips.

Hilda pouted but rolled away as he got to his feet. She tucked all the blankets around her so she wouldn’t freeze while he was gone. It’s what they get for taking too long, but at least she would get a handsome view while he shooed Judith away.

Claude got up and went straight for the door, bare as the day he was born, and kicked away a few pieces of clothing on the floor. Mussing his hair again, he poked just his face into the hall. “Good morning… Sorry, I was up late worki-”

“No excuses, just listen.” Judith’s voice was firm, and Hilda could picture the frown the woman wore out on the hall. “The scouting party we sent out to keep an eye on Fort Merceus have returned, but they ran into a den of demonic beasts on their way back. They all got out alive, but it seems the Empire has been increasing their forces.”

Any remaining levity was sucked out of the air. Claude sighed with groan and rubbed his chin. “Terrible, but not unexpected… Have you heard if we have enough imperial uniforms for our ambush?”

“Wish I could say, but your man in Derdriu is a slippery one. No one’s seen or heard from Nardel in several moons. I was hoping you at least would have. What’s better is there’s been talk about a small army camping out just north of Merceus. It’s out of the way of our planned route, but it could easily be an ambush.”

Hilda frowned, biting her lip. _No more fooling around…_

“So, what do you think?” Judith’s tone softened a little. “Sorry to pile so much on you this early. I get the feeling I interrupted something.”

Claude shook his head. “No, just woke up is all.”

“Are you sure? Either I’m getting special treatment, or you dress down for all your wakeup calls.” Then she sighed, pausing. “Whoever is in there with you, finish quick. You have about twenty minutes before the rest of the monastery wakes up.”

Footsteps clicked down the hall. Claude shut the door and ran his hand over the back of his neck as he sat on the edge of the bed. Hilda sat up. She couldn’t see his face, but she knew he was thinking hard. “None of that sounded good,” she said.

Claude gave a half-laugh. “No, it didn’t. But things will be alright.”

“Are you sure?”

He turned and smiled at her with the usual, flat, “trust me” look. “I’d rather know what’s ahead than getting blindsided when it’s too late. We’ll find a way to manage Merceus _and_ that small army. We’ve made it this far, after all.”

Hilda found herself frowning. She pushed away her blanket and scooted closer to Claude, leaning her chest against his warm back, rubbing her hands down his muscled arms. “Being Mr. Leader Man isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, huh? Having to smile away everyone’s worries.” She placed a soft kiss on his neck.

A sigh echoed in his chest. “It can be difficult, but it’s necessary. No way I’m letting our army lose hope before we even start.”

“I believe it, but don’t worry about that here.” Hilda propped her head next to his, kissing his cheek as well. “If you overwork yourself, we won’t have any time to spend together like this. Go ahead and put on that smile for everyone else. You don’t have to wear it around me.”

She let the moment linger, her fingers tracing his biceps. Eventually, his hand found hers and he squeezed it. He sat a little taller, looking at her. “Thank you, Hilda. At least that’s one person I know I don’t have to worry about.”

Hilda smiled, burying her warming face into his shoulder. “Guess this means I should get going, huh?”

Claude hummed, bobbing his head left and right. “You could, but… we do have twenty minutes.”

Slowly, Hilda lifted her head. “What are you planning?”

“Well,” he said with a shrug, one arm snaking around her waist, “I was just thinking-”

Suddenly he twisted, pulling her into his arms and pushing her back into bed. Hilda squeaked when he buried his face in her chest, but she bit her lip, laughter bubbling up her throat. Claude had his knee between her legs, an arm around her waist, as he littered kiss after kiss up to her collarbone. His stubble scratched her, but his insistent lips more than made up for it.

Hilda rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop her smile. Or stop her body from leaning into his. It was all reflex again. She could easily push him off, but... “Okay, okay! Enough of that! I have to go...”

Claude nuzzled his beard under her jaw. “You can’t blame me. We were interrupted,” he murmured. He shifted his weight so he was completely on top of her. “I won’t take long, I promise.”

“That’s not- Oh!”

Claude sucked on her collarbone, the pinch and pull making Hilda gasp. Breath hot, his lips trailed up her neck until he found a tender part of her throat and worked on her there. When her breath hitched again, he took it as encouragement, sucking harder. He slipped one hand behind her head, holding her, tangling in her hair. Hilda twined her legs around his without meaning to, but she was stuck. Locked in place. Her pulse quickened and sang his praises as his other hand trailed down her chest, slipping past her stomach.

She gasped, her grip tightening on his shoulders. “Oh…! Oh, Claude…” Every touch lit a fire under her skin. At any other time, she would have let it continue, her body aching to feel him. Revenge would have to come another day. She swallowed hard, breathless. “Claude, stop...! Your beard is too scratchy. I can’t enjoy this.”

Claude finally pulled away from her neck, his breathing shallow next to her ear. “That wasn’t a problem before.”

“Yeah, well, that was before... I have to leave, and you-” She grabbed his wandering hands. “-need to shave!” She sat up beneath him and pushed him up.

“W-whoa!” Claude’s eyes went wide at first, shocked. Then his smile flashed, and then he pushed back. Maybe he didn’t want to be flung across the room, or maybe he wasn’t ready to admit defeat. Either way, he kept trying to dart in and kiss her, but Hilda smirked and dodged as many as she could.

Eventually, she gave up. She fell back onto the pillow with an “Oof!” and resigned herself to fate. Claude fell forward and pinned her hands above her head. His hungry mouth found hers, and after a long, warm kiss, he pulled back as he tried not to laugh.

Then. Something honest flashed through Claude’s eyes. It lasted only a moment, but crawled on for an excruciating eternity. His smile broke as he looked at her, _really_ looked at her. Nothing coy or ambiguous. He watched her like he looked beyond this one moment, to that far off dream of his. Like he wanted her at its center.

 _No... Don’t look at me like that._ Hilda tensed, her heart crashing to a stop. _Not here. Not here…_

Finally, Claude’s gaze clouded again. He let out a careful breath and shook his head at himself. “Guess I should know when to quit,” he muttered, looking elsewhere. He released her hands and got off the bed, rooting through his discard clothes on the floor. “We’ll both have to become much better at excuses if I keep you much longer.”

Hilda stayed where she was, resting her arm over her eyes, willing her heart to beat again. “Yup. Fun’s over for now. Doesn’t mean we can’t do this again, of course.”

“Of course,” was his easy reply. “Hopefully sooner than we think.”

Hilda hummed. It was a nice break in their routine, but when could that be again? The closer they got to the Fort Merceus, the closer they got to the capitol. The closer to the end of the war.

And after the war was done, where would that leave them?

Hilda breathed a sigh so faint even that Claude wouldn’t notice. Around them, the early blue of the morning had bled into white. There were no promises to make here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uses copious neck kissing to symbolize Claude’s interest in Fodlan’s Throat ANYWAY thank you for reading!! Only two fics left for this story, so if you want to see more, subscribe to the series or to my account!


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